Sunday, February 26, 2017

I recently added a new type of post to my blog: character
types! So far, it seems to be a success. Last month, I wrote about The Best-Friend-Turned-Evil-Villain (aka. BFTEV). Another one of my favorite
character types is the Pessimistic Mentor. You know the one. They’re typically
condescending and will point out every single way the heroes fail.

Some examples of the Pessimistic Mentor include Puddleglum (The
Silver Chair), Hamish (The Hunger Games), Han Solo (The Force
Awakens), and Hub (Secondhand Lions). But there’s more to the
Pessimistic Mentors than just being down all the time. In fact, they tend to
have some admirable qualities.

They’re straightforward.

They tell things the way they are. If they think the
protagonist is going to die or at the very least be mortally wounded, they’ll
tell the protagonist. After all, what else would they do? No sugarcoating
involved here.

I really like the scene when Jill and Eustace first talk to
Puddleglum, and they can’t tell if he wants to come on their adventure or not
because he sounds so pessimistic about their prospects of success:

“Now a job
like this—a journey up north just as winter’s beginning looking for a Prince
that probably isn’t there, by way of ruined city no one has ever seen—will be
just the thing. If that doesn’t steady a chap, I don’t know what will.”

Pessimistic Mentors tend to be honest.

Because they tend to be so blunt about the truth, it means
more. If they tell the protagonist there’s a 99% chance of death, the
protagonist will take EXTRA caution (hopefully). If they praise the protagonist
for something, it may come as a surprise, but it means so, so much.

Of course, there are exceptions. Hamish isn’t exactly
honest. Not if you consider he lied to Katniss for basically the whole of Catching
Fire.

They’re stubborn as a rock.

Chances are, if a character ever lives long enough to be a
mentor, he or she is probably going to be set in his or her beliefs. This
character is no exception. When it comes to cheering them up, forget it.

But they tend to teach the protagonist from lessons they
learned themselves.

Walter helped teach his great-uncles that there’s more to
life than just hording wealth. Sometimes you have to experience life.
Not that it got rid of Hub’s crazy nature.

Walter: “Why not see what he’s selling? …what’s the good of
having all that money if you’re never gonna spend it?”Hub: “Well. “We’ll see what the man’s sellin’. Then
we’ll shoot him.”

Okay, that… works?

Pessimistic Mentors tend to have interesting backstories.

Which may be why they’re so stubborn.

Throughout the film, Secondhand Lions, Garth tells
Walter Hub’s story. But Hub also sums it up pretty well in a fight with some
rowdy teenagers:

“I’m Hub McCann. I’ve fought in two World Wars and countless
smaller ones on three continents. I led thousands of men into battle with
everything from horses and swords to artillery and tanks. I’ve seen the
headwaters of the Nile, and tribes of natives no white man had ever seen
before. I’ve won and lost a dozen fortunes, killed many men and loved
only one woman with a passion a flea like you could never begin to
understand. That’s who I am. NOW, GO HOME, BOY!”

Although the Pessimistic Mentor may not develop much as a
character in the current narrative, he or she might have already done so in the
past. Yet even for the stubborn one’s, there’s room for growth. Sometimes the
protagonist may surprise them.

They’re loyal to a point.

Even though they know the situation may be helpless, they
will stand with the protagonist to the end. Hamish advised Katniss when he had
to as her mentor, then stood up with her against the capital as her friend. Hub
and his brother Garth took their great-nephew under their wing when his own
mother didn’t want him. Han Solo still loved his son despite everything that
happened.

They get some of the best lines.

Whether it’s a funny or serious, mentors tend to get some of
the most memorable lines.

In The Force Awakens, Han Solo knows a lot more about
the Force than he used to.

Finn: “Solo, we’ll figure it out. We’ll use the Force.”Han: “That’s not how the Force works!”

Thank you, Han. I’m sure we’re going to be hearing that line
a lot now…

Then you have Puddleglum who stands up to the Lady of the
Green Kirtle, even though his own mind is convinced she’s telling the truth:

“I’m on Aslan’s side even if there isn’t any Aslan to lead
it. I’m going to live as like a Narnian as I can even if there isn’t any
Narnia.”

There are so many more lines I could reference, but I won’t
here for the sake of conserving space.

Sure, the Pessimistic Mentor can be as annoying as an alarm
clock, but at least they’re consistent. They may be as touchy-feely as a
cactus, but at least you know where they stand.

Who is your favorite Pessimistic Mentor? What’s your
favorite quality or line by him or her? What type of fictional character do you
want to read about next—That Guy Who Just Won’t Die, The Humble Heroes, or
somebody else?

Sunday, February 19, 2017

If tea is a sophisticated drink for calm and practical
people, then coffee is tea’s crazy second cousin for the passionate and the
caffeine-driven. Okay, so anybody can drink coffee, but let’s face it, if
you’re a writer and you enjoy coffee, then there’s a 79% chance you’re
enthusiastic. Or you’re just not a morning person. Take your pick.

But how, might you ask, can a tea drinker like coffee just
as much? On the contrary, my friend, I… I have no idea. I just do.

My evolution of liking coffee is a strange story. Back when
I was a kid, I used to hang out with my writing club at Starbucks where we’d
buy Frappuccino’s, and for years, I wouldn’t drink anything other than
sugar-slathered drinks. Then one year, my friend Sarah came to visit me in
Europe, and we took a trip down to Italy where I tried my first sugar-infused
cappuccino. It was marvelous. Then I started drinking cappuccinos on a regular
basis, without sugar. Then I went straight for strong, black coffee.

Yes, I’m a bizarre creature. Whoever said writers were
supposed to be normal? I still drink cappuccinos. In fact, they’re my caffeine
drink of choice, though I haven’t been able to find a decent one since leaving
in Italy. (Oh, the good old days!)

Whether you’re like me or not—if you’re a writer who likes
coffee, this post is for you!

Coffee comes in many,
many varieties.

From chocolate-covered coffee beans and espressos to cappuccinos
and iced lattes, there are plenty of coffees to enjoy on the go or at a
leisurely pace. Personally, I like chocolate covered coffee beans for road
trips, and they’re great for those dull times when your imagination just needs
a boost. Road trips can be great for reading if you’re not the driver, and they
can be great for world-building or character development whoever you are! When
it comes to sitting and having a writing-related discussion, I like a good
cappuccino. If I need some serious motivation, I’ll switch to strong black
coffee.

It’s all based off personal preferences, but there’s a
coffee for nearly any occasional. There’s even decaf, but…

The caffeine in
coffee is a great motivator.

It comes from a bean, so coffee has to be so much better for
you than energy drinks. Besides, it has
so many uses!

Feeling groggy because it’s morning and you can’t quite wake
up enough to think let alone write? Have a cup of coffee. Staying up late
writing for NaNoWriMo or some other project and you need the energy? Drink
coffee!

Just the smell of coffee
is inspirational.

There’s nothing quite like the smell of freshly brewed
coffee, filling the room and promising to awaken your senses. Can we get a
coffee-scented candle already? Or coffee-scented perfume? Or maybe I just need
to make more coffee!

Need I say more?

Coffee stains make
your stories look 1000x more awesome.

Let’s face it. If you’re like me, and printing out your
story (or handwriting it) helps you out, then there’s a 75% chance it’s going
to come in contact with your drink of choice. And coffee stains are almost a
given. But come on. They’re not a hindrance. They’re a badge of dedication and
hard work. They say, “Look! On this page, I needed caffeine, and I had
caffeine, and oh, my goodness, it’s such a relief to see something other than
red ink drowning my words.”

Besides, if you’re finished with your pristine, perfect
new draft manuscript, you can douse it with coffee instead of burning it.
After all, coffee smells good! But whatever you do, don’t douse it with coffee
and then burn it. The smell of burnt coffee is not so inspirational.

Drinking coffee is a
good excuse to collect a bunch of writerly or geeky mugs.

Okay, so you could do this with tea as well, but I’m not
writing about tea, am I? My own collection of mugs, though quite small, makes
drinking coffee twice as enjoyable. Not only am I having a caffeinated drink,
but I’m also getting an inspirational snippet as well. Sounds like a win-win
deal to me!

Coffee is just nice,
plain and simple.

Or complicated and sugary if you prefer. So don’t let
anybody tell you not to drink it if they don’t like it. Everybody’s entitled to
his or her opinion. So, drink ten cups of coffee like Lorelai Gilmore. Or sip a
cappuccino like me. Or just, you know, enjoy a cup of coffee, however you like
it, just like you do.

Sunday, February 12, 2017

College is full of memorable experiences. I remember one
particular day when I was sitting in senior seminar, a prep class for graduating students in the Humanities Department, when two of my friends got into a debate about
literature. While it may not sound atypical, this particular topic got heated
quite quickly. One of my friends argued for the importance of teaching
classical literature, like Shakespeare, and the other argued that contemporary
novels, like young adult fiction, would become the new classics.

Although the debate quickly
became passionate, the two made it up to each other before the end of the
semester. Another of my friends even wrote a play for creative writing based
off the encounter. The main problem I had while listening to it all was that I
agreed with both of them. I’m a classicist in that I like sitting down with a
book that challenges me intellectually. But I’m also a fangirl who enjoys books
that make me laugh, cry, and want to throw the book against the wall.

Once upon a time, I didn’t like Shakespeare. He’s seen as
the patriarch of English literature and the standard for most writers to
ascribe too. I wondered, how can anybody live up to such a title? And how could
one person have so much influence over literature while other writers are
considered lesser?

Eventually, over the course of my undergraduate, I came to
appreciate and enjoy Shakespeare’s plays and poetry, though I still don’t
consider him the greatest writer known to mankind. I even came to have favorite
plays, having written a paper on As You
Like It. Throughout my college career, I came to learn a lot about my
reading preferences.

The intellectual in me thoroughly enjoys studying
literature, especially if it’s more difficult to read. I like discussions about
literary tropes and trends in styles. In fact, that’s one of the reasons I
started this blog—to express my thoughts on books and encourage discussions. I
like to learn, to expand my mind, to grow. Reading challenging literature does
just that.

When I was studying for my M.A. in English Literature, I
spent a lot of time studying Middle English (think Shakespeare). A. LOT. So
much so that when I decided to watch The
Hollow Crown: War of the Roses for FUN. Part of the way through Henry VI, Part 1, I found that I could
understand nearly everything they were saying. When I first started reading
Shakespeare’s plays, I had to look up everything on SparkNotes and really
analyze the text. Now I have little problem with it.

That doesn’t mean I don’t have difficulties. I still have to
study the plot and characters to fully grasp them. Sure, sometimes I even have
to look up some of the lesser-known phrases. But I find hearing language or
reading the text presents few challenges. And understanding, whether historical
or linguistic, makes literature far more enjoyable.

Perhaps that’s what it means to be a master at
something: overcoming learning challenges to discover how to enjoy a text.

I mean, can a scholar really enjoy studying a Hamlet with the same relish as a
teenager fangirls over The Hunger Games?

Yes.

Why not?

While the response towards the text may be different,
there’s no rule saying that scholars can’t enjoy their work. I never would have
pursued a degree in English literature if I didn’t enjoy reading it. Of course,
literature often makes me think, but there are some instances when it makes me feel too, and more than just boredom. Richard III, A Modest Proposal, and The
Telltale Heart made me shudder.

On the other hand, there are times when I’m tired from a
long day, or a long semester, and I want to be swept away by a story instead of
being encouraged to think. It’s these moments when the fangirl in me will pick
up a young adult novel and connect with the characters and the story.

But that isn’t to say that I don’t learn. Sometimes a story
will have a particularly interesting writing style or character development
that I’ll note for my own writing. Or a story’s theme may inspire or challenge
me. Or maybe a novel just moved me with every single aspect—the plot, the
characters, the voice, the research, the theme—that I want to rush out and by
myself a copy if I don’t already have one.

These types of books tend to be commercial instead of
literary. But that isn’t to say that they don’t have literary value. A book
that brings me to tears—or close to it—while it may not have the heavy
descriptions typical of “literary” books, can still impress value through theme
or other details.

The Book Thief (historical fiction) is classified as young adult, but it’s also poetically profound with the way it values life and friendships.

Illuminae (sci-fi)
is another YA novel but with a unique writing style, told through chats, video
feeds, and AI data. But the dedication of the characters towards the pursuit
and exposure of the truth is astounding.

Inkheart (fantasy),
the start of a YA trilogy, explores the importance of place and the value of
words.

Now that I’ve finished my schooling in English and
literature, I’ve started picking up books like Moby-Dick because I can’t resist a good intellectual challenge. But
that’s not to say that I don’t enjoy YA books. I’ve read perhaps ten while I’m
in the process of getting through this whale-obsessed narrative/study. Next
time, I may pick up a less dense classic.

Until then, I will push through.

And just because I’m not technically a young adult (ages
13-18), doesn’t mean I will stop reading and writing YA.

As an intellectual, I will learn about cultures and
histories, languages and sciences.

As a fangirl, I will laugh and stress with characters,
turning pages late into the night.

Of course, the best books—whether classic or contemporary—encourage
both.

Sunday, February 5, 2017

In the 21-century, most of us live in a world where we are
privileged in one way or another. A couple weekends ago, I went on a ski trip
with my dad and marveled at how much fruit there was for breakfast in the
middle of the winter. I was also in the middle of reading Inkdeath, which takes place in the Inkworld during winter.
So the book prompted me to compare my circumstances with those of the
characters. The differences between our century and those of the middle ages is
astounding.

Of course, I read medieval fiction and fantasy stories all
the time, so you would think I would have thought of these things already. But
there’s just so much to take in. I wondered, how much of our present technology
is really necessary? And what is privilege really?

This poem is just an exploration of technology and privilege
and how it differs from country to country.

In Season

Apples are always in season

in this, the first world,

where we know everything.

Crank up the thermostat,

and you can feel the heat soaking
into your skin

like the summer sun, harnessed with
a metal bit;

or turn up the AC, and relish the
nip of winter,

like an albino housecat ready to
sprint

at the crack of the door.

Raspberries are only always in
season

if you’re willing to ship them
across the globe,

like little red slaves to sate our
appetite for fruit

in a world where we think we know
everything.

But some slip on a sweater,

and northerners laugh at your
shivers

while they stride about the snow in
shorts;

and Europe—sweet Europe—laughs at
the thought of AC,

for summer, like a fickle butterfly
flirting with one flower then the next,